


A Pirate's Life for Me

by hazelharbor



Category: Pocket Monsters: Ruby & Sapphire & Emerald | Pokemon Ruby Sapphire Emerald Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-10 23:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3307448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelharbor/pseuds/hazelharbor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.<br/>A good, old-fashioned pirate AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Passenger

It was the late 17th century, deep amidst the Golden Age of piracy ranging from the Caribbean Sea to the Indian Ocean. Port Royal was still run by pirates and the Pirate Round was very popular among the sea-faring thieves; trade ships in the Indian Ocean bore rich pickings and St. Mary’s was a reliable supply base for the less… well, the less honorable merchants.

The Lady Breona and her captain, Archie, often made port in St. Mary’s. At the moment, however, the Lady Breona was a few miles off the west coast of Africa, on the way back to sell off loot at St. Mary’s on the Northeastern edge of Madagascar; it was going to be a long trip.

That was fine with Archie, however. If it were possible, he’d never leave the sea. During long voyages such as this, he spent most of his time perched on the bow, watching the waves break around the mighty prow of his ship.

He was there now, in fact, watching the sun dip daintily into the horizon, making the ocean bleed red. Archie knew it’d be warming up on the mainland this time of year, but on the ocean — especially at night — the air held a certain chill. The chill was just beginning to set in when he spotted something on the water that shouldn’t have been there.

He squinted in the dimness, holding onto the scaffolding as he leaned further over the side, trying to catch better sight of what it was. Seemed to be some driftwood. No, wood debris from a ship. And something else…

"What do you see?" called his first mate, Shelly, from the main deck. Her arms were crossed over her chest, feet planted apart; she struck an intimidating figure, and was just as hardy and demanding as she looked. It was already cool enough to turn her breath white, making her seem almost ghostly in the rapidly darkening eve. Archie shook off his trepidation, however, turning his attention back to the dim figure in the water.

"I think there’s…" He frowned, trailing off as he tried to make out the indistinct form. It was drifting closer to the ship, and he could now make out a shock of red against the black water.

"You think there’s what?" Shelly asked, but Archie was already diving off the edge of his ship, his first mate’s shout cutting off as the roar of water surged around his ears.  
He resurfaced, moving easily through the water until his fingertips touched the rough wood. His suspicions were confirmed; there was a very waterlogged man clinging to the plank of wood, hair as red as the sunset and skin as pale as the moon. Not knowing if the man was conscious or even alive, he pushed against the wood and swam, bringing them closer to his ship. As expected, there was a rope waiting for him. Taking a firm hold of the smaller man, he grabbed the rope and Shelly pulled him aboard with the help of one of his other men, Matt.

"What the hell was that?" she snapped at him. "Of all the foolish —" She stopped, staring at the shivering, waterlogged man held carefully in Archie’s arms.

"Something probably happened to his ship," Archie said in way of explanation. "Take the helm, Shelly." Without further comment, he took the man to his quarters.

He didn’t want to be indecent, but the poor man was soaking wet and cold. He took the wet clothes and dressed him in warm, dry clothes — Archie’s own clothes, so they were comically large on the smaller man. He carefully placed the stranger in his bed, pulling the blankets over him, wondering what had happened and who he was. He was so pale he seemed like he’d be from a royal or governor’s family, and that boded a certain… danger.

Archie was kind — for a pirate — but he was not stupid. He’d be dropping this red-haired stranger off at the nearest port, and keeping a close eye on him in the meantime.


	2. An Unexpected Savior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxie finds himself on board a strange ship, rescued from the sea by its captain, or, more properly known as  
> He was a pirate, he was a scholar, could I make it any more obvious???

_'March 6th, 1698'_

A delicate hand dragged a quill across the top of the page. 

It was only the first week of the excursion, but the scholar was already getting restless. He despised the sea and anything associated with it and just wanted to reach Singapore, no matter how unsavory the locals were. It was still land, and land he would continue his studies on. 

Of course, there were others on the ship along with him, but he preferred his own company. 

The harsh scent of sea salt and the not-quite-unnoticeable rocking of the ship had him on edge at all times. Every creak of the boards beneath his feet, the conversations and lighthearted laughter that ran through the air -- the sounds of his dive into insanity.

He could only pray to God above that this trip would be worth it.

Had he not been keeping a journal on his voyage, he probably would have lost track of the days and delved into madness, but he came prepared. 

Finishing up the page he was writing, Maxie wrapped the quill, vial of ink, and the leather bound journal in a sheet of fabric, then tucked the bundle away into a draw string bag. It’s not as though he was a paranoid man, but one too many spills on important documents was enough reason to take precautions.  
Precautions that were better taken than regretted not taking later.

Over the edge of the great vessel, arms crossed on the railing, the redhead gazed out on the horizon. Where the blue of the sky cross sectioned the rippling mirror of water, something broke the split. Paying little mind to it, he turned his chin up, squinting when his eyes passed over the sun; hardly past noon.

Gentle winds tousled the loose locks that weren’t quite long enough to tie back with the rest of it. Turning and taking a few strides back to his usual spot, he was not as gently knocked into by one of the captain’s men as he ran for the captain’s quarters, anxiously carrying a telescope in a tight grip. 

Maxie wasn’t a fool— everyone on this ship was civilized and no one had any reason to rush as of yet; something was amiss.

Turning back all too quick, nearly flying over the railing as he slammed his hands against it, he found again what had marred the beautiful horizon scenery.  
A ship. There were no trade routes he knew of that should be this far off course, and according to basic known policy, no ship should sail without proper flags of origin.  
Cries rang out from crew member to crew member, calls of action, shouts of names and locations, and the only thing that could register with the scholar was the repetition of 'no colors'.

What would a scholar be without his studies. Studies of pirates in this day and age, especially.

Pirates.

Not in the man’s worst nightmares did he even fathom an encounter with a bunch like that— rowdy, ruthless, generally atrocious bastards of the sea.  
Being shoved into the lower levels of the boat, Maxie found himself in close quarters with most of the others on the ship, people he had seen in passing before, and a few unfamiliar faces.

Mothers, fathers, children— Families. The faces of terror…

A blur of movement. 

The sound of cannons.

Water.

Screams.

Nothing.

Unsure of how long he had been out, or even really aware that he was out to begin with, he opened his eyes just enough to see the horizon again. In attempt to close his hands into fists and raise himself up, he became slightly more aware of the situation. Registering that it was cold, his body started to shiver.

The red sky paralleled the rippling water, staining the reflection with blood. 

He couldn’t accept his fate, yet he couldn’t fight the cold off much longer— but it seemed he wouldn’t have to.

Unable to move his head, his eyes found a ship, and a man diving off the ship toward him. Whoever this man was, he was a hero. Pirate scum had gotten him nearly killed, and this kind man was probably going to have to listen to his complaints later.

Drifting in and out of consciousness fighting off the onset of hypothermia, he had trouble making out what his eyes were seeing. Yet, he didn’t have to use his eyes to feel the warmth of the man holding him in his arms.

Normally, he would have pitched a fit to being undressed without his consent, but being at the mercy of the sea for god knows how long and the traumatic experience he had been though left him with little energy to argue, even with how big the replacement clothing was.

Being in a stranger’s bed was less than savory, but again, arguing wasn’t worth it in the condition he was in. “Thank you…” his voice hoarse as he spoke in hushed tones. “May I ask… your name?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Web of lies

Archie hadn’t expected the man to be awake, let alone coherent. He was pulled out of deep thought at the sound of the redhead’s voice, and he cracked a grin. “Archie.” He saw no reason to lie.

He fetched his flask of water, holding it out to the stranger. “You should drink.”

Care first, questions later.

As the stranger took the flask and sipped at it gingerly, Archie crossed his arms over his chest, watching him carefully. He could see the swirling confusion in those wine-red eyes, delicate brow furrowed. 

Then the redhead lifted his gaze, handing the flask back. "What trade route am I in? And what company are you from?"

Archie broke out in an easy smile. A trustworthy smile. 

"We are but simple merchants en route to Singapore," he replied with unwavering confidence, having told that lie many a time.

"Ye should get some rest now, Red. Ye've had a trying time, and the questions can wait till ye're well enough, aye?"

Maxie frowned severely, presumably at the nickname, then he shook his head lightly. "I would rest more comfortably if I know who I was with,” he uttered with a note of defiance, but he was swaying slightly, gaze wandering.

"I told ye, ye’re aboard a merchant ship."

Archie moved over to the table, turning off the gas lamp so the only light was from the moon glimmering through the windows.

"Rest. It wouldn’t do for ye to fall ill at sea; it’s a long way to port."

When Archie turned back around, the redhead had sunk down into the blankets, presumably already asleep.

Archie watched him for a long moment, the moonlight making his sapphire eyes look as black as the midnight ocean.

While Maxie was asleep, he quietly moved through his quarters, putting away any maps of the Pirate Round and pirate ports.

With these items hidden away in his desk drawers, he left his quarters.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this strange sailor a friend?

“May I ask… your name?" Maxie asked hoarsely.

"Archie," the man replied, holding out a flask. "Ye should drink."

Closing his eyes and nodding in some sort of silent thanks, he took the flask from the man and sipped at it.

The sailor -- Archie -- crossed his arms and watched him closely.

Maxie has an arsenal of questions, but he could feel himself fading out of consciousness again and couldn’t fire them all off just yet, so he settled for one.  
"What trade route am I in? And what company are you from?"

As much as he wanted to know how long he had been out, it’s not like the stranger could answer that, and as less than proper attire the other was wearing, it just didn’t register who, what, or where this sailor was from. 

Archie grinned steadily. "We are but simple merchants en route to Singapore. Ye should get some rest now, Red. Ye've had a trying time, and the questions can wait till ye're well enough, aye?"

Red? Maxie frowned at the simple nickname, displeased. What an obvious title, unashamedly based on his rich red hair. 

"I would rest more comfortably if I know who I was with,” he said defiantly. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to drag this out any farther as his vision started to blur again, unconsciousness dragging at him.

"I told ye, ye’re aboard a merchant ship," Archie said, moving over to the table. He turned off the gas lamp so the only light was from the moon glimmering through the windows, turning everything silver.

"Rest. It wouldn’t do for ye to fall ill at sea; it’s a long way to port."

Maxie barely heard his last words, already sinking back into the warm embrace of sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Shelly was waiting for him outside the door, fury in her stance and a storm in her eyes.

"You’re leaving him alone?" she demanded.

"He needs to rest easy tonight," Archie replied with an unapologetic grin. "Poor lad’s been through hell."

"Did you at least question him?"

Archie’s silence was answer enough. Shelly let out a huff, turning on her heel. “If he rats us out at the next port, we’ll be hanged.”

"I told him we’re merchants."

"Do you really think that lie will hold, Archie? Unless you lock him away the whole time, he’ll figure it out quickly enough — and locking him away would be a dead giveaway anyway. There’s no way around it; he will find out.”

Archie breathed in deeply, the sea air filling his lungs. He knew all this, of course. The chances of keeping their pirate status a secret were slim to none. If worse came to worse, he’d throw the redhead overboard; his crew was his family, and he’d do anything to keep them safe.

"Ye know I won’t let us fall into any real danger," he said quietly.

"Do I?" Her simple question was colder than the sea in the deep of winter.

"Ye have my word." Archie leveled his gaze with hers. "If he presents too high of a threat, I’ll kill ‘im meself."

That seemed to satisfy his first mate. She went to join the crew in slumber below decks, leaving Archie alone with his thoughts on the main deck, a slew of stars scattered above and reflected in the water below. An endless night.

She was right, of course. Archie knew that. This stranger with red hair was a danger to his crew.

He needed to play his cards right or Maxie would quickly figure out he was on board a ship of pirates. He didn't want to _kill_ Maxie. He didn't want to kill anyone.

But if Maxie found out they were pirates, he'd tell the authorities at the nearest port. 

Archie couldn't let that happen, and he'd do whatever was necessary to protect his crew.


	6. Chapter 6

Any other day, the redhead would have arisen with the sun, but off the usual mental clock, the sun was already above the horizon and the cabin was well illuminated by the morning rays. Scrambling, he jumped out of bed before noticing he was still too light headed and sore for too much extraneous activity. Using the reflection in the window as a mirror, he fixed his messy hair before straightening out what he could of the baggy clothes he'd been changed into.

Cautiously, Maxie opened the cabin doors and squinted as his eyes adjust to the assault of sunshine; the captain's quarters had been quite dim by comparison.

Various crew members meandered around, tending to their assigned jobs. A young Jamaican boy, perhaps in his early teens, was checking the rigging with the help of a dark-skinned man with broad shoulders and an obviously cheerful disposition. Over by the mast stood a larger person with dark hair and a quaint smile, calling up to a dainty young woman perched on the crossbeam of the foresail, checking some rope or another. A strange, ratlike man was sitting at the steps that led up to the helm, carving a piece of wood. His gray eyes were fixed in the middle distance, lanky body suggestive that perhaps he didn't get enough food, and his untended hair falling loosely over his face and shoulders. Despite the strange and unnerving carver, the atmosphere seemed well enough. Ruby irises bounced from face to face, trying to pick out the man from last night, but all Maxie picked out was the strangely mismatched attire for merchants to be wearing. Here, French-style clothing and there, English, some even vaguely Orient. 

Finally, he picked out the man from last night, standing at the forecastle. 

Watching his step as he crossed the deck and ascended the steps, he approached. “Archie, was it?” His voice still hoarse, but not nearly as bad as the night before.

"I never formally introduced myself. I must apologize for my rudeness. My name is Maxie. I’m a scholar from England, and it’s rather convenient you mentioned last night you were on your way to Singapore; that’s where I just happen to need to be." He shut himself up there before he gave this strange man too much information.


	7. Chapter 7

Morning was Archie's favorite time of day. The sun was just braving over the horizon, dissipating the chilly shrouds of night. It was the promise of a new day, and the promise of yet more adventures to come in the constantly expanding map of the world. 

Archie was up on the forecastle deck, as he often was. The sun had yet risen past the horizon, climbing toward noon, when he heard footsteps ascending the steps behind him.

“Archie, was it?”

The captain turned at the sound of a not-quite-familiar voice, surprised to see the stranger from last night already awake and moving about. 

"I never formally introduced myself. I must apologize for my rudeness. My name is Maxie. I’m a scholar from England, and it’s rather convenient you mentioned last night you were on your way to Singapore; that’s where I just happen to need to be," the redhead went on, then pursed his lips as if afraid to say any more.

A scholar from England, hm? It was made rather obvious by his stiff and airy speech, not to mention the lilt in his dialect.

"On yer way to Singapore?" Archie grinned easily at him, leaning back against the rail. "So how’s a lad with an education end up drifting at sea?"

The scholar, Maxie, paused for a moment, eyes distant, like he was recalling some past horror. Then he shook his head replied and as if the words were sour on his tongue. “Pirates. The filthy lot of them deserve to be hanged.”

Ooh, feisty tongue on that one. Archie idly scratched at his beard, showing neither agreement or disagreement. This was a rather awkward situation now that he knew what’d happened to the redhead; nearly killed by one crew of pirates, rescued by another.

"If you don't mind though," Maxie continued, dragging his gaze back from the sea. "Did I happen to have a book with me when you pulled me from the water?"

Archie nodded thoughtfully, thinking. Yes, there _had_ been a bag with Maxie. At the time, he'd left it on the deck. “Aye, there was a small bag with ye. Didn’ go poking inside, though. Left it to dry with yer clothes.”

The scholar sighed in relief, turning his gaze to the sky for a moment. "Thank you," he said wearily, then looked back at Archie. "But that also brings me back to the inquiry I had last night. Just what sort of merchants are you? You don’t look like anyone I’ve seen at the ports back home."

"Ah, ye’re used to yer fine English merchants an’ such." Archie laughed, a kind of deep and unbridled laugh. "We here are much more diverse. We've got crew members rangin' from Jamaica to the Orient and everywhere in between. More than jus' English." And before Maxie could ask any more questions, he changed the subject. "But enough o’ that. Ye must be hungry, Red."

The redhead looked as though he was forming a protest, but then his stomach growled and he hung his head. "It would seem so." He sighed in defeat.


End file.
